


Slithering Into Your Heart

by DisasterLesbean



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, marriage law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 11:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19172041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisasterLesbean/pseuds/DisasterLesbean
Summary: The look Narcissa gives her makes her shift uneasily. It’s a hungry look. The look of someone starved coming across a meal for the first time in days. It’s the same expression Hermione had the first time she managed to use magic intentionally.





	Slithering Into Your Heart

The war ends but bureaucracy waits for no one. Government positions are massively impacted by the war. So many are dead or missing and filling their positions becomes a priority. 

Hermione was originally intending on going back to finish her last year at Hogwarts but then Minister Shacklebolt offered her a position in the Ministry she couldn’t turn down. She would head the Department of Magical Creatures. A position like that would take years of experience if they weren’t so pushed to fill the position. 

“Frankly, anyone still alive and willing to work in the department isn’t qualified.” Shacklebolt is reading through papers during their meeting. She’d be offended if she didn’t know just how much he had to clean up.

“I’m not exactly qualified either.”

“No, you aren’t. However, you’re well schooled and intelligent. S.P.E.W. proves you care about magical creatures to an extent. You were instrumental in ending the war and showed leadership throughout.” He looks up from his papers. “Also, you’d actually take it. Anyone who is qualified and willing to work is edging for higher positions or something more…”

“Auror or Unspeakable?” It’s delivered wryly and causes Shacklebolt to laugh.

“They’re not what I’m looking for. You are.”

She takes the position, she’d be a fool not to. Harry and Ron are surprised but supportive. She expects the workload to be a struggle but is surprised by how manageable it all is. After balancing school and the oncoming war she’s mastered heavy workloads. Her subordinates don’t cooperate at first.

None of them like that she came into the position with no experience and so young. She can’t dissuade valid concerns so instead she sets upon proving she is a good department head. Within months she gains the support of the majority. 

That’s not all that changes. 

Ron and Harry have been living together since becoming auror’s and she hears it from Ron. 

“Neville and I are dating.” She chokes on her butterbeer. “Better than Harry, he spat it out.” 

“You ambushed us both while we were drinking?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Thought it’d be funny.”

“Ass.”

“You okay with it?” 

“Of course Ron, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“A lot of muggles and muggle-borns have issues with it. Honestly so do as lot of non-traditional magical families.” He looks nervous which is an odd expression to see on him. It makes her uncomfortable and angry. Angry at anyone who’s said anything to him to cause him to be so uneasy and nervous. He shouldn’t ever be nervous near Harry or her, not after everything.

“I’d never judge you Ron.”

“You judge me all the time!” 

“About who you love. I’ll judge your disgusting habits.” It’s her turn to feel her stomach churn with nerves. “Besides, I’d be a bit of a hypocrite.”

That gets his attention. His eyes widen with disbelief. “Really? Are you seeing anyone?” 

“Not right now.”

“Have you?” 

She looks down at her hands uncomfortably. “Pansy.”

He mouths her name but it doesn’t get a voice. “Blimey ‘Mione.” 

“I know.”

“Before or after the war?”

“Before, we never really dated I guess. Never went out on an official date but…”

“Did you love her?”

“Maybe.”

“There’s no maybe for love ‘Mione.” It’s more insightful than she expects from Ron but looking at his earnest face already starting to line from age, or stress, she thinks he isn’t the same boy.

“Do you love Neville?”

“With everything.”

She grabs his hand and smiles at him. “I’m happy for you Ron.” 

She is. She knows Harry is too with the pleased smile he shoots Hermione’s way whenever the two are being coupley. It isn’t as gross as it was with Lavender. 

Harry becomes an issue.

Rather, his inability to just admit his feelings for Draco.

Since the war they’ve all spent more time with Draco. The bond of being children in an adult’s war wears on them all. They all bore the scars of their elders actions. Harry was the first to befriend Draco. Surprisingly, Ron didn’t take long to follow. He does live with Harry, it must have been awkward to try and avoid him. She holds out the longest but even she caves. 

It starts simple. Existing in the same room and not hexing each other. Then he apologizes. She doesn’t accept it and avoids Harry and Ron’s place for a while. Draco seeks her out and once again apologizes. He says he will give her space if she needs it but should avoid the flat. She starts tolerating his presence again before they bond through an unlikely means. 

“A parking ticket!” Draco throws himself dramatically beside Hermione. He fixes his messy robes despite his intention to look effortless. 

“Excuse me?”

“They gave me a parking ticket!” 

“Who?”

“Muggles!”

“You have a car?”

“Of course, it’s important to blend in.”

“Did you bother getting a license or learning about parking laws?” At his blank look she closes her book. “Can you even drive?”

“It can’t be that hard.”

“You have a car you can’t drive.”

“Of course.” 

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’ll teach you to drive.” He freezes and then perks up. A rare smile graces his face. Since the war she hasn’t seen him smile much, only when Harry is near. 

“Excellent. Can you also help me sort out this ticket business?”

She becomes friends with Draco. It is unexpected. She becomes closer to him than most except maybe Harry and Pansy. He can’t penetrate the bubble that is Harry, Ron, and her but he runs parallel to it. A vital piece of everyday much like Neville, Luna, and Ginny. Becoming friends with Draco introduces two new parts of her life she hadn’t expected.

Pansy and Draco’s blasted mother.

Seeing Pansy again had been odd. The first time she came with Draco, Ron kept sending her obvious looks until she elbowed him. Harry was welcoming but careful. He didn’t forget how quickly she offered him up. She apologizes for it but isn’t extremely remorseful.

“That’s because I wanted to live Granger.” She tells her one day head propped on the pillow besides her. “I refuse to be ashamed of trying to survive.” 

Pansy and her become an on again off again item. They never really date. She knows she doesn’t want to date Pansy and she’s sure Pansy doesn’t want to date her but sometimes it’s nice to have someone. 

Draco’s mother, Narcissa, is a different situation entirely.

She’s at his place for once instead of Harry’s or her own flat. They came to retrieve a dark item he said his father had. It tracked a gene that indicates the presence of vampirism. Vampires are her current pet project and an object capable of easily locating them would prove essential. 

“You brought a mudblood to my home?” She’s looking down at Hermione, her nose upturned and posture closed off. The disgust radiates off of her and displeasure colors her tone. 

“Mother!” His ears turn red with embarrassment. “This is my house too. She’s a friend. Doesn’t sensitivity training cover not using slurs?” Since the war ended, sympathizers are required to take sensitivity training. She isn’t sure hearing people lecture against other’s predisposed beliefs is really going to change anything but the ministry has to save face somehow. 

Narcissa’s face softens at her son. It’s like she’s an entirely different person in that moment. The hard edges fade leaving a softer version of the woman who’d watched her sister torture her. “As you say.” She looks as if every word pains her. She looks back to Hermione and gives her a nod of resignation. 

Visits don’t necessarily get less terrible. 

Whenever she’s at Draco’s she avoids the woman. Narcissa doesn’t dare say anything that may cause a rift between Draco and her but the barely veiled looks of disapproval are enough to cause Hermione want to fight with her. She refuses to be cowed and shamed by someone who had sided with Voldemort. 

The fact she turned traitor in the end doesn’t matter to Hermione. She could have stood up to Voldemort and his followers. She could have denied them Malfoy and Black support and finances. She could have stopped her sister from burning her way into Hermione. She didn’t do any of those things. She bided her time until she saw the tides turning and jumped ship. She isn’t Draco who really had no choice, no chance to stand on his own legs. 

Draco obviously senses the tension but he navigates it. He lets them avoid each other and keeps them both civil. Until he decides to show his Slytherin colors. 

Somehow, he manipulates them both into having dinners. The three of them sit around the table in stilted awkward silence. Dinners pass with Narcissa and Draco talking or Hermione and Draco talking. 

She’s heading to wash her hands before dinner is due when she comes across Draco. He’s sitting on the closed toilet with his head in his hands. He looks defeated and she only hopes he isn’t crying. 

“Draco?” His whole body jolts with surprise.

“Merlin! Warn a guy.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I was just taking a breather.” She walks over and squats, resting on her heels. She places a hand on his knee and gives him an encouraging smile. He looks torn between keeping his silence and probably what he considers pride or confiding in her. She expects it to be feelings about the war or his imprisoned father. “Are you going to be a part of Ginny and Harry’s wedding?” 

She is cursed with befriending complete idiots. “Draco, Harry and Ginny aren’t together.”

“I heard Ginny is getting married. Everyone knows they’re a thing.” She bangs his head on his knees.

“They were together before our last year.” Harry, Ron, and her have taken to calling it their last year. It makes it less awkward when they talk to people who weren’t there. “They didn’t get back together. Ginny and Luna started dating. I’m assuming that’s who she’s engaged to.”

“Oh.” He says it with breathless relief. “Oh.” His face twists up.

“Why don’t you ask Harry out?”

“Why do you think I’d like him?” He looks like he did in school. Haughty, angry at her assumption, disgusted at the idea of being attracted to Harry.

“Because you look at him like he’s the only thing that matters. Plus you were about to cry in the bathroom over him marrying Ginny.”

“I wasn’t going to cry.” Is his indignant response.

“Sure.”

“Granger I would never cry for someone I barely tolerate.” 

She’s tired of his defenses. “Draco, you only smile when you’re with him.” He stops and looks at her considering.

“I hadn’t realized I did that.” He confesses.

“Why haven’t you asked him out?”

“I thought he was dating Ginny.”

“Are you going to?” He looks away from her, his thumb rubs over his mark. “He cares for you. Don’t think you aren’t worthy because of that damned mark. Don’t let it ruin you. He doesn’t hold the war against you. He probably doesn’t even think about you in it anymore. He’s been interested in you for a long time.” 

“When did I earn this Hermione?” 

“When you made Harry happy.” 

He straightens up, fixing his tie. She takes the cue and stands ignoring her resistant muscles from holding the squat too long. He looks like he’s going to thank her. He doesn’t, thanks and apologies are still hard for him. They probably always will be. He does hold the door open for her and take the seat next to his mother.

Narcissa is different that night.

She talks to Hermione. She asks about her day, asks about her work. She has apparently been paying attention when Draco and Hermione talk because she picks up a conversation about vampirism. Hermione is slow to engage with Narcissa but at Draco’s pleased smile and Narcissa’s conversational skill she gets lost in their discussion. 

Dinner goes by and dessert they never have is served. Hermione, eager at limiting any interaction with Narcissa, always leave after dinner. This time she stays for dessert and continues talking to Narcissa. 

She keeps staying. Every time she goes over to Draco’s she stays for dinner and dessert. She curses herself for falling for Narcissa’s adept ability to set her at ease. The natural hostess comes out and Hermione falls for it every time. 

It doesn’t help Narcissa somehow has something to say about anything. Instead of how she is often met with silence when she talks to deep about a matter Harry and Ron aren’t familiar with, Narcissa is somehow familiar with everything Hermione brings up. She can discuss the cultural impact of vampires, their vast but barely recorded history, even their biological make up. She slowly goes from hating their dinners to looking forward to them.

She still remembers the way mudblood fits in Narcissa’s mouth, how at home it had sounded. How well worn the word was, as if her mouth was molded just for its use. She remembers pale eyes watching as she scratched and begged on unforgiving wooden floors.

She doesn’t think about that when Narcissa tells her about a diary in her possession. A diary of a vampire who had seen Troy fall. She doesn’t think about how Draco spends his Wednesday afternoons with Pansy and that there wouldn’t be a buffer when she went over. 

“Draco’s not here I’m afraid.” It stops Hermione in her tracks. She asked where’s Draco was because he always meets her. It’d slipped her mind and now she’s in Narcissa’s hall without their usual third person. “I can show you to the library.” Hermione perks up at that and to her surprise Narcissa smiles. “It’s an impressive library. Not many truly appreciate it.” It’s not humble and when Hermione walks in she thinks Narcissa has the right to brag. Books and tomes from thousands of years are housed in this room. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

“It is.”

“I wonder why Draco hasn’t shown me it.” 

“He didn’t want you getting lost in here and forgetting life outside.” She feels her ears burn with the fact they’d apparently discussed this. “Here it is.”

The diary is sitting on a table in the center of couches, an obvious reading nook. The diary itself is worn cracked leather tied with string. It looks old enough that it should be in professionally climate controlled rooms but just laying on the table. She hopes they’ve cast spells on these books. If even one of them was lost she’s sure it would be a loss. 

“You may read it here but refrain from taking any with you.” 

“Of course.” Narcissa leaves her with the diary. 

She’s in the library for hours. Perhaps Draco was right. She reads through the diary and takes notes. She decides to set it aside for the day and wanders the library. She could spend her entire life in here and she doubts she’d make it halfway. She is torn when she moves to leave. She wants to leave and get to translating these notes into a way to improve the vampires situation. However, she owes Narcissa better than that. Propriety changes her course. 

She knocks on the down to Narcissa’s room. She’d never dared to even venture near it before. “Come in.” 

“I wanted to thank you for letting me look at the diary.”

“No thanks necessary Ms. Granger.” 

“Hermione.”

Narcissa hesitates, her own sense of manners warring at Hermione’s request. “As you wish.” She’s standing near a table full of mortars and vials. Her hair is pulled back from her face and her fingers are dirty from the herbs and ingredients. She’s the least put together Hermione’s ever seen her. It humanizes her.

It’s the first time Hermione really sees her. Not the elitist pure-blood set on hating Hermione for her ancestry. Not some caricature of a mother. A woman stuck between a tyrant who sympathizes with views she’s been trained to believe and a family she desperately wants to protect. 

She isn’t untouchable as Hermione’s come to see her in this moment. She’s flesh and blood. A person who talks with a muggle-born several times a week. A person who is possibly changing her views, or at least getting better at hiding them. She’s a person who allows someone she’d only tolerating a few months back to wander her library unsupervised.

She’s the kind of person who has dirt smudged on her forehead.

“You’ve got something.” She gestures towards her forehead and Narcissa drags her hands across it, making it worse. “May I?” Narcissa looks mutely shocked at the request but nods her approval. Hermione steps forward and slowly brings her hand forward, careful to not disturb Narcissa. The air is heavy and the room is silent beside a boiling potion. She rubs at the dirt, warm soft skin crinkling beneath her touch. She brings her hand back just as slow and hears her own heart beat.

This close, she notices how attractive Narcissa is. Her eyes are like crystals divining her barest truth. Her face is lined with life experience but it frames her face, deepens the already beautiful visage. Her lips are painted a Gryffindor red, a comparison she knows Narcissa would hate. She has to fight the urge to brush her thumb across Narcissa’s lips. She pulls her occlumency shields tight afraid Narcissa could hear the thoughts she definitely shouldn’t be having.

She shouldn’t be having them for any number of reasons. She can’t exactly recall them when Narcissa’s eyes are locked on her own. Hermione’s close enough she can feel the other woman’s breath, see the thin blonde stray hairs that refuse to be pulled back. “Got it.” Her voice comes out gruff and Hermione almost cringes. What’s the point of shielding her mind if her voice rats her out?

“I appreciate it Ms.- Hermione.” Hermione forces herself to take a step back and shelf the sudden attraction because that’s a recipe for disaster. “What are you making?”

“Healing droughts.”

“Really?”

“Yes, medicine is one of my passions.” It wasn’t something Hermione expected. 

“Can you show me your process?” 

She spends hours with Narcissa as she explains how to make the potions, where the herbs come from, how to get the best results. She explains how some herbs are better raw while others need to be cooked. Hermione hesitates at mentioning muggle medicine. She doesn’t want to break the peace but she also wonders if Narcissa could recognize knowledge from other sources. Even if she doesn’t like the source. 

“My parents were dentists. They’re doctors for teeth.”

“Why would anyone need doctors for teeth?” She almost points out Bellatrix for example but bites her tongue.

“Teeth are important. Cavities need to be removed, plaque needs to be removed as it can lead to heart disease.” 

“Cavities? Plaque?” Narcissa’s eyes are shining in a way she’s never seen. Her smile is easy and intrigued. She guesses she can put her biases aside.

After that they go back and forth on their knowledge. Narcissa tells her about the medicinal value of plants and Hermione tries to explain muggle medicine. She’s never been particularly drawn to the subject to her knowledge is limited to surface level and what she’s heard from her parents. It doesn’t seem to matter as she has to explain it to Narcissa from the ground up. 

“I thought I was amidst a fever dream but you really are hunched over _laughing_ with my mother.” Draco interrupts from the doorway. The change in Narcissa is instant. She straightens up, a different expression falling into place. Mask over mask, Hermione wonders what the real Narcissa looks like. 

“Draco, how was Ms. Parkinson?”

“As well as always. She said to thank you for your letter.”

“Of course.” 

A beat of silence.

“I’d better get going.” If she stands between them any longer she might burst of awkwardness.

“It’s almost dinner, stay.” Narcissa’s words are softly delivered but she knows an order when she hears one. If she hadn’t spent hours rubbing elbows over dirt she might have refused but as it was she just nodded. Draco looks at them oddly all night until she leaves but doesn’t say anything.

She starts going to the manor on Wednesdays.

Work gets more difficult when the public catches wind of her work with vampires. For the first time since the war she becomes controversial. Many want the current way to continue. The ongoing oppression of vampires benefits the market. The blanket illegalization of consuming blood from living creatures boosts the markets that sell overpriced blood. She spoke to a vampire who survives off of blood pops which are relatively cheap. He’s barely more than bones and will likely take years to recover if put on a regular diet. She’s fighting to amend the law to allow blood consumption from consenting living creatures. 

This movement has caused many to label her as radical. 

That’s why when it happens, she’s probably the last to know. 

She’s on her way home from being yelled at by her opponents for hours over the ramifications of delegalizing feeding. She is tired and just wants to sleep when her phone rings. 

“Hello?”

“‘Mione, get over here quick.” Harry’s voice is crackling with obvious distress. Ignoring her tiredness, she apparates to Harry and Ron’s. Draco’s arm is around Harry, Ron and Neville are in a similar state, even Luna and Ginny are here. 

“What’s happened?” Ron hands over a newspaper and Hermione takes it. She reads through it quickly and then rereads it when she doesn’t believe what she just read. 

“You’re kidding? This is some kind of joke?”

“Every pure-blood needs to marry a muggle-born and vice versa.” Neville confirms.

“What, do half-bloods not exist? Magical creatures?” 

“Half-bloods are lumped in with pure-bloods. Magical creatures aren’t mentioned.”

“Of course not.” 

It hits her that none of her friends are muggle-born. She’s had the realization many times throughout the years when they talk about muggle-borns in a distant way. It really hits her when they look at their partner like they’re about to be ripped apart. Because they are. 

“There’s no way a law like this would pass.” 

“It did.” 

The night passes in a sad blur. She is steaming mad at the inhumanity of forcing marriages on people under some guise of unification and building bridges. She hates that she works for the ministry in this moment. Hates that she works in the same building some idiots came up with this law and decided it is a good idea. Hates that she has to marry someone or get thrown in prison.

“Hermione.” Draco’s walking her home. He always does. She doesn’t like to apparatuses unless she has to and likes the time to clear her head. He’s insisted on walking her home even when they couldn’t tolerate each other. “Marry me.”

She stops in her tracks and he stops a few steps ahead. “What? I thought I just heard you ask me to marry you but surely you would never say something so absurd.”

“Think about it. You could get matched off with anyone if you let them decide. If you pick who would you marry? Harry? He’s like your brother. Luna? Ginny would murder you. I love Harry and I want to spend my life with him. If I get married to someone who doesn’t understand that they could report me for violating marital terms. I’m not proposing we marry for love, just safety.”

She’s never been the girl who dreamt of her wedding or how the proposal but she knows it shouldn’t be like this. This empty feeling that spreads through her limbs. 

“Just think about it?” 

“Fine.”

It makes sense. It’s safe for the both of them. She doesn’t want to though. She’s expected something better with her life. 

Narcissa has been relatively silent as they grind up a particularly chalky root. “Draco told me he proposed to you.” 

She can’t hide the cringe at the conversation. “He did.”

“You aren’t pleased?” 

Hermione needs to tread carefully. She knows Narcissa is incredibly prideful and she doesn’t want to offend the woman by insulting Draco or his offer. “I don’t approve of the law. I want to fight it but people are already being arrested for rioting.” 

“The Gryffindor wants to fight it and the Slytherin wants the safe marriage.” 

“We never really do escape our colors do we?”

“I hope we do.” Narcissa holds her gaze meaningfully and Hermione looks back to the roots to hide her smile. She hopes they do too. 

“I don’t mean any offense to Draco, it’s just…”

“You don’t want to marry him.”

“Yes.”

“You aren’t attracted to him?” 

“No.”

“Are you attracted to men?”

“No.” Narcissa pestle clangs loudly.

“I have a proposition.”

“Are you about to propose?” Hermione intends it as a joke but Narcissa doesn’t laugh. 

“You aren’t attracted to Draco but you are attracted to me.” Hermione feels herself blush. She thought she’d kept it close enough to her chest but it appears she’s been obvious. “Why not marry me?” Her easy confidence is alluring. She proposes and doesn’t feel the need to stumble over an explanation. She knows Hermione is attracted to her and is capitalizing on it.

“What about Lucius?” 

“They absolved any marriages to Azkaban prisoners serving life.” 

“Which means you’re subject to the law as well. What about Draco? The suggestion was also to protect himself.”

“I already have found him a reliable groom.”

“Oh.” Narcissa has a good point. If Draco is protected she won’t feel guilty for refusing his offer. 

“I can’t agree without asking.” She hates to break this peace, this friendship, they’ve fallen into. “Even after the war you hated muggle-borns. You hated me. What changed? Did it change?” 

Narcissa stops grinding and looks at her, Hermione can’t look up in case her worst fears are confirmed.

“I was wrong. I’ve spent my life believing in blood superiority, my parents taught me, my family and friends believed it, Lucius was one of His closest followers. I’d never had a reason to challenge it as a belief. You made me challenge it. You made me reconsider. I’m sorry it was you who bore my words, you who had to help me see my own arrogance.” It was more of an explanation than Hermione thought Narcissa would give her. 

“I accept.” 

“Really?” Narcissa sounds amused and Hermione feels her own lips curl with amusement.

“Yes.” 

“I should inform you of one vast difference between Draco and myself.”

“What’s that?”

“This won’t be just to protect ourselves. If we’re to marry you should know I fully intend on courting you.” She doesn’t expect Narcissa’s close proximity or her lips brushing against her ear with ever word. That’s why her hand slips and the powder explodes in their faces much to Hermione’s ire.

Narcissa doesn’t even flinch, she looks down at the overturned mortar and back to Hermione’s stunned face. She brushes her thumb over Hermione lips clearing it of powdered root. She has to grab onto the table when Narcissa slips her thumb into her mouth. “Very fine, you’re getting better at grinding.” Hermione wishes she could knock the smugness off of her but it’s taking everything not to make a fool of herself.

“I learned from the best.”

She avoids Draco for a few days. She doesn’t want to tell him she’s refusing his offer and instead marrying his mother. She doesn’t want to tell him that his mother is apparently now courting her, starting with the delivery of a gorgeous engagement ring. Most of all, she doesn’t want to tell him she’s finding herself excited at the prospect.

Eventually he tracks her down and tells her that Narcissa had told him after Hermione had accepted. He’s awkward about it but most uncomfortably for Hermione he isn’t surprised. 

Narcissa planning a wedding is a warpath she hadn’t known to prepare for. She had expected something quick and easy and she was a fool for it. Of course Narcissa would make this into the event of the season.

“Darling how do you feel about gardenia’s?”

“Do you prefer chicken or beef?”

“Does this seating arrangement look okay?”

She had no idea how to answer most of Narcissa’s questions and often had to resort to research.

“Who’s going to walk you down the aisle?” They’re seated in front of a fireplace in one of the manor’s many gathering areas. 

“I suppose Harry. I’m not sure, I’ll have to think about it.” 

“What happened to your parents?”

Hermione’s heart falters and her hand shakes around her glass. Narcissa notices and shifts closer. Her leg presses against Hermione and her hand rests on her knee. “I wiped their memory.” Narcissa’s hand tightens on her knee and her eyes widen.

“You wiped their memory?”

“Yes. I tried returning it but...I couldn’t manage. I didn’t want to keep trying because I was afraid I’d break their minds.”

The look Narcissa gives her makes her shift uneasily. It’s a hungry look. The look of someone starved coming across a meal for the first time in days. It’s the same expression Hermione had the first time she managed to use magic intentionally. “It amazes me how strong you are.”

“It’s not that impressive. It’s not a terribly difficult spell.”

“It is. To manage to pull it off and not let the emotional toll wreck their minds? Only a few magical beings could pull that off and all of them are infinitely older and more experienced.”

“You like that I’m strong?” She still has difficulty wrapping her mind around this Narcissa that has no qualms about her ancestry.

“I adore it. I crave it.” Chills dance down Hermione’s spine, especially when Narcissa’s nails dance across her thigh. 

“Why?” Narcissa’s wears a pleased smile at Hermione’s breathless question.

“I can feel it. Pulsing just beneath your skin. Your magic, your power, it’s alluring. Why do you think my sister was so drawn to Him? Or Dumbledore and Grindelwald?” Sparks follow Narcissa’s fingers. They seep into her skin warming her blood and speeding her heart up. Her eyes follow Narcissa’s lip as she speaks. “You feel it don’t you?”

Hermione leans in instead of answering and captures Narcissa’s lips. Her hand finds its way to the nape of Narcissa’s neck and she tangles her fingers into her hair. She pulls Narcissa closer and swings a leg over her lap. Narcissa’s hands rest on her hips, gripping hard enough Hermione doesn’t dare pull away. 

Narcissa swallows a moan Hermione lets out just in time. “You weren’t kidding about Hermione wanting to shag your mum.” Hermione jolts back but Narcissa’s grip keeps her from toppling to the floor.

“Mr. Weasley, nice to see Draco was able to locate you.” Narcissa’s warmth leaks away and her mask of polite indifference slips back in place. She takes a moment to let Hermione calm down and stands up to greet their visitors. She turns back to face Hermione before leaving. “By the way, those few with experience I mentioned?” 

“Yes?”

“I’m one of them.” Hermione’s breath stops. Narcissa could bring her parents back. She could restore their memories without harming them. She feels a wave of unparalleled gratitude sweep over her. She covers her mouth to hide the watery smile but Narcissa has≈ already seen it. 

“Thank you.” 

“No need to thank me darling.”

After that, she doesn’t much mind the warpath. She helps Narcissa as much as she can and lets her rant about the ineptitude of people to her hearts content. When Narcissa had recovered her parents Hermione had hardly let them out of her sight for days. They were skeptical about her marriage due to Narcissa’s age but her charm is flawless. By the time they’d left her parents home they were helping plan the wedding. 

Their wedding is fast approaching and the nerves flood Hermione. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” She keeps asking Narcissa and after the twelfth time Narcissa has had enough.

“Hermione, I’m sure. Are you? It’s hardly been a half hour since the last time you asked.”

“I’m sure.” Narcissa raises an eyebrow. “Okay I’m nervous. I think that’s understandable considering getting married wasn’t in my plan for years to come. How do you know?”

“I’ve been married before.” 

Hermione scrunches her nose at the reminder. “Do you love him still?”

“I did. When we met we were the power couple. He was charming and handsome, also a good match family wise. I loved him for years but I’ve been out of love with him for years.” 

“Why?”

“The moment I realized he’d sacrifice Draco I couldn’t love him anymore. Nothing matters to me more than family and he’d excluded himself from my family when he made that decision.” 

That is the second time Hermione kisses Narcissa and the last before they are married.

Everyone who is anyone attends the wedding. It’s more crowded than the Yule ball. Everyone’s attention is on her and it causes her breathing to quicken.

“Hard part is almost over.” Her father mutters to her as they walk down the aisle.

“You look beautiful.” Narcissa’s dress robes are tight whereas Hermione’s are flowy. She looks striking standing before the rabbi. 

Narcissa’s answering smile is self-assured. She isn’t a young woman needing to be affirmed. She knows how beautiful she is but appreciates Hermione’s compliment all the same. “As are you.”

Hermione feels herself crumble beneath Narcissa’s promising lips just as the glass breaks beneath her foot. Perhaps she won’t quit the ministry just yet. She’ll just tear them down.


End file.
